dreaming with eyes wide open
by halcyon epochs
Summary: a collection of het/gen drabbles
1. promises & dreams

"You made me a promise," Daphne accuses, her hands planted on her hips. "And now you're backing out of it?"

"I'm sorry, Daph, but I have to go," Harry says, trying to placate her. "I know I told you I wouldn't put myself in risky situations, but this is crucial. Voldemort's controlling the Ministry, and I can't just stand by and let him do that. I have to fight."

"But — aren't there other ways than fighting to solve this?" Daphne reasons. "Ways that involve you not leaving me?"

"No, there's not, and you know that."

"Harry, I—" Daphne looks hopelessly at him, searching for an answer in his eyes, but finds only raw determination. She knows there's no changing his mind, so the only thing she can do is accept his decision.

"Harry, I'll — I'll miss you," she says finally, resigned. "And try not to get yourself killed, okay?"

Harry cracks a weary smile. "I'll do my best. For now, let's just spend the last night we have _together_. I don't have to leave until dawn."

Daphne grins. "Oh I have plenty of plans for tonight." She points her finger at him and beckons, a sly smile gracing her face. "C'mere, you."

.

 _They're in a meadow at night, and he's bathed in silver moonlight, standing atop a grassy hill. She's at the bottom, looking upwards at his smiling face. As she watches, he opens his arms, inviting her into them. She wants to._

 _She tries to move her legs to ascend the summit, but she makes no progress whatsoever. She tries again. No movement._

 _She keeps trying as sweat beads on her forehead and trickles down her cheeks, and he's just standing there, not making any attempt to help her, still waiting patiently with open arms._

 _"Help me!"_ _she calls, but he's as still as a statue, unmoving._

 _Despair washes over her, like a tidal wave..._

...and someone shakes her, trying to rouse her. Daphne mumbles something that is inaudible to even her own ears. She's too warm, comfortable.

"...Wake up, Daphne!" Harry's urgent voice cuts through her drowsiness and she bolts upright into a sitting position as she remembers. _Harry. Dawn. Leave._

"Harry!" she says breathlessly. "You're leaving already?"

"It's dawn, love," he points out gently as he sits downs and begins to pull on his trainers. "I have to go."

"Don't," she pleads.

"We discussed this already," he sighs. finishing tying his left trainer and begins tying his right. "It's killing me inside, that I have to leave you, but it's best for the world. You have to trust me."

Those striking emerald eyes look at her beseechingly and she exhales slowly. "I understand. Good luck."

"I love you," he whispers, standing and bending over to kiss her softly. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," she replies, knowing that she means it with all of her heart.

* * *

Writing Club - Angel's Arcade - Riku

WC: 482


	2. realizing & understanding

"Albus," Minerva says, twirling her wand in her hand, "what's Death like?"

"Death?" Albus strokes his white beard thoughtfully. "What is there to be known? He walks the Earth, waits in the shadows for his victims."

"Yes, but what is it like to _meet_ him?" Minerva presses.

Albus shifts around in his portrait, looking pensive. "Strange as it may sound, Death visited me as I was falling. He asked me if I had _chosen_ to die, or it had been simply a cruel twist of fate."

"And?"

"What do you think, Minerva?"

It takes her all but a second to answer. "You chose to die."

"I did. I knew about the Malfoy boy's ill-schemed plot to murder me, he wasn't exactly trying to conceal it. But I also knew that it would happen inevitably, whether by his hand or someone else's. Lord Voldemort almost always got what he wanted, one way or another. So I chose to die on my _own_ terms, rather than by his."

"That's why Voldemort feared you," Minerva states, clarity dawning on her aging face.

"Of course he did. I was the one person he feared the most, more than even Harry. He was never able to defeat me, and I knew the secret to his downfall. And even though he was behind my murder, _he_ didn't kill me himself. Instead, he had one of his followers kill me."

Minerva laughs ruefully. "So you knew all along how to cause his collapse, but it didn't occur to tell anyone until right before your death."

"I had to...make sure that I was correct in my suspicions."

"So Potter destroying the diary didn't give you enough confirmation?"

"I wasn't there, Minerva," he reminds her. "I needed to witness it myself. Which is why I sought out the ring."

"The ring...the curse on your hand…" Minerva mentally puts all the pieces together. "And Severus gave you a potion to hinder the curse…"

"He told me I had about a year to live," Albus affirms smoothly. "I was going to die anyway, so why not sooner than later?"

Minerva rolls her eyes. "You have guts, Albus Dumbledore," she snorts.

Albus shrugs, his eyes twinkling. "I know."

* * *

 _368 words_

 _Assignment 1, Mythology Task 10 -_ _Write about someone who is feared (restriction: cannot be Voldemort or a Death Eater)._

 _Auction - (color) white_

 _Writing Club - Disney: T3._ _ **Wisdom and Knowledge**_ _\- Write about somebody wise.; Cookie's Crafty Corner - Knit Stitch - Restriction - include a character whose name starts with V.; Em's Emporium - 6. Lin (Marvelgeek42): Write a story set in Hogwarts._

 _Truffle - Milk (word: smooth)_


	3. home is where the heart is

**_Warning for abuse_**

* * *

Rowena walks through the halls, gazing around at the polished marble floors and the gray, smooth stone, both illuminated by the sun's golden rays streaming in from the large windows. This is her home, the one she built up from nothing, and it will serve as a home for many more. She is one of the four creators, the designer, and a co-mother of this foundation.

She can't be more proud.

She rounds the corner and ascends the spiraling staircase, passes through the unenchanted raven, and into the room where future Ravenclaws will sit, laugh, talk, study, whatever they wish. They will blossom right here in this room.

The room still needs to be decorated, but that will be easy enough. She waves her wand and a comfortable armchair appears. Another wave of her wand and the fireplace is lit.

"Megsy!" she calls and with a loud _crack_ the house elf appears.

"Mistress Rowena!" Megsy sinks into a bow. "What can Megsy do to serve you?"

"Stand up, Megsy," she orders gently. "It won't do your back any good if you keep bowing."

Megsy straightens. "Of course, Mistress," she murmurs. "What can Megsy get you?"

"I would like a hot cocoa, please," Rowena requests.

Megsy makes to bow again and pauses as she remembers Rowena's order. "Of course, Megsy will get it right away, Mistress."

And with another _crack,_ she's gone and Rowena sits, facing the fireplace.

A smile grows on her face.

* * *

" _Rowena, you will never be anything," her mother says harshly, her wrinkled features disdainful. "No one will ever know who you are. You are as useful to anyone as a piece of rubbish. The least you can do is learn to be a proper lady. Heaven forbid I raise an ill-bred daughter who can't even find a husband."_

 _Rowena's eyes are blurry with tears and emotion is building in her chest, but she pushes it back. "Of course, Mother," she says dutifully._

 _Her mother's hand strikes her face and pain lances through Rowena's cheek. "Now don't talk to me until the kitchen floor is spotless," she orders._

" _Yes, Mother," she says, shoving away her tears and lowering herself to the floor._

* * *

That day, she vowed to never treat anyone like a slave, like her mother did. And she has grown from her mother's mistakes.

Rowena's eyes flit around the room she's built with her own bare hands. She's shed blood sweat, and tears to build this haven. It can be an escape for people like her, who have pasts similar to hers.

As long as this castle stands, anyone can call it _home._

* * *

 _423 words_

 _Assignment 1, Astronomy Task 2 -_ _Write about one or more of the Hogwarts Founders._

 _Writing Club - Disney, S2; Showtime - 13; Lyric Alley - 12. I am brave, I am bruised; Ami's Audio Admirations - 6; Bex's Bazaar - D5_


	4. the truth of destiny

_Lavender may be a little ooc. Sorry._

* * *

Lavender touches the smooth glass, staring at her blurry reflection. She needs to know and scrying is the only way.

 _Are Won-Won and I meant to be together forever?_

Something creaks and she freezes. She's not supposed to be out this late; she is breaking curfew, and she doesn't want detention. So, she dives under the table and peers out through the bottom of the tablecloth.

Light appears, spilling over the walls and washing over the room. It's dim at first, but starts to increase in intensity.

And then, Lavender sucks in a breath as a familiar pair of shoes enters the room, belonging to her best friend.

Parvati glances around the room, her face slightly afraid, casting the light from her wand in all directions to ensure she is alone. Lavender holds her breath as the wandlight passes over the table she's hiding under and releases it as it sweeps away.

Then a thought occurs to her. _What is Parvati doing here?_

She gets her question partially answered as Parvati makes her way over to the table adjacent to hers. Lavender dares to stick out her head a little further in order to see what Parvati's doing.

Parvati sets her wand down, the tip pointed at her face so it illuminates it, and stares intently at the crystal ball resting on the table. "C'mon...c'mon…" she murmurs, completely enthralled.

Lavender gazes at her friend as her mind puts all the pieces together. Parvati must be here for the same reasons as she is...it is too much of coincidence...they did cover scrying in class today...and Parvati must be very interested in what her future holds, or at least, interested enough to risk being caught.

Lavender watches as Parvati's emotions flit across her face, going from blankness to shock, the shock at varying degrees. About thirty seconds later, she pushes away the crystal ball and buries her head in her hands. She doesn't appear to be sobbing, but her body is shaking.

Lavender has never wanted to reach out to Parvati as much as she does now, but she can't. It would just open a whole new can of worms.

Suddenly, she doesn't feel up to scrying anymore.

Parvati regains her composure after a few minutes, standing up and picking up her wand. Lavender ducks back under the table as she passes by and waits until she's gone.

She gives her friend a few minutes' headstart and heads back to the Gryffindor common room herself. Thankfully, she runs into no one.

When Lavender pushes open the door to her dormitory, she immediately glances in the direction of Parvati's bed. There is a shaking lump of blankets on the bed, but Lavender doesn't go there. Instead, she goes to her own bed.

She'll talk to her friend in the morning, because it'll seem too suspicious now.

But she'll always have Parvati's back, no matter what.

* * *

 _486 words_

 _Assignment 1, Divination Task 2 -_ _Write about someone trying to learn about their future via scrying._

 _Prompt of the Day - (era) Trio_

 _Auction: ParvatiLavender_


	5. is the love in the storybooks?

When she was a girl, her favorite kinds of stories were fairytales, where the princess fell in love and got a happily ever after. She secretly desired a love like that, the one from the storybooks.

Her storybook was a pretty thing. The title was embossed with gold lettering, and it had a picture of a girl, clad in a flowing pink dress. She was glowing, radiant, a bright smile on her face. Hermione could've stared at the cover for hours, tracing the lettering and admiring the girl's dress.

She wanted to be a princess.

* * *

She'd thought she'd found that kind of love with Ron. It was romantic, just like the princesses' had; he was her knight in shining armor.

And then, he broke her heart. She'd caught him having an affair with another woman. Two weeks later, the divorce papers were signed and she received all of the property.

But it didn't give her the pleasure she'd wanted. A part of her heart was now devoid of anything, the part that had allowed herself to love Ron. That part was empty.

She wanted to say _I love you_ to someone and have it reciprocated, wholly and fully. She wanted movie nights with popcorn and stolen kisses, the heady sensation of being in love. The sense of _security._

Now, she spent those nights alone, surrounded by chocolate wrappers and tear-stains on her cheeks. She _hated_ those nights.

So she vowed that this would never happen again. She would find someone who loved her for who she was. She would no longer spend any more nights alone.

All she had to do was find the right guy,

* * *

She still couldn't believe she had stooped as low to join a dating site.

Hermione winced as she scrolled through the friend requests. Most of the men who wanted to befriend her had sent _suggestive_ messages - all of which she deleted.

 _Percy Weasley._ She stopped scrolling and opened his message.

 _Hi, Hermione! Long time no see!_

(What the hell was Percy doing on an online dating site? Didn't he have a wife?)

She typed back _Hey, Percy, how are you?_

She waited for a few minutes, and when there was no reply, she logged out.

 _Hmm…_

* * *

"Did you know that Percy is on a dating site?" was the first thing out of Hermione's mouth as Harry walked up to her.

Harry chuckled. "Nice to see you too," he quipped. "And what are _you_ doing on a dating site? I thought you hated those things."

"Yeah, well, I was curious," she defended herself, blushing hotly. "And I, for the record, am single. But I thought Percy was married!"

"Didn't you hear? He and his wife are divorcing," Harry said, raising an eyebrow. "You must be more out of the loop than I thought."

"I don't make it my business to poke my nose into other people's affairs," Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. "Especially the _Weasleys."_

"Simmer down, Hermione." Harry held up his hands. "You may loathe Ron, but that doesn't mean the rest of his family is detestable. I mean, you and Gin get along fine."

"That's-that's different," she feebly argued.

"How?"

She deflated. "I suppose Ginny's all right," she admitted. "And the rest of them too, except for _him."_

"That's understandable," Harry agreed. "Here, have a seat."

He pulled out a chair for her and she sat. He sat across from her.

"So, how's Ron?" she inquired lightly.

"He's on his fifth girlfriend," Harry snickered. "He tells me they all leave him because he starts crying when they have sex."

"Why's that?" Hermione let a giggle escape.

"He mentions your name a lot," Harry replies, his snickers doubling. "And that offends them."

Hermione's amusement rose. "Good to know," she laughed.

* * *

She logged into her account again that night. There's a new message from Percy.

 _I'm doing okay, thanks for asking! How about you?_

Hermione's fingers lingered over the keys for a few moments before she started typing.

 _I'm doing fine!_

She hesitated before typing, _What're you up to?_

She almost didn't hit _Send._ Was that too invasive?

In the end, she did anyway.

* * *

They continued talking through the site, learning about each other and gradually growing closer. During her years at Hogwarts, she had never really gotten to know him. All she knew was that he was studious and bossy.

At least, that's the impression he'd left on her, but now, it was changing.

It seemed Percy was on the site for the same reason she was - to open his heart to love again.

For some reason, they never decided to meet in real life. She could've just Apparated to his home, since she knew he still lived at The Burrow, but she didn't. Something told her that she had to wait.

And somewhere along the line, her heart started opening its gates.

* * *

" _Kiss me, Percy," she begged. "Kiss me."_

 _His lips drew nearer, closing in…_

 _...and his face was promptly replaced by Ron's._

Hermione sat up abruptly, her mouth open. She didn't know if she had screamed or not - though she hoped she hadn't.

But one thing was for sure - she had fallen for Percy Weasley, hook, line, and sinker.

She might've just found her fairytale love.

* * *

 _I had to stop here, otherwise this would've turned into a 2k story…_

 _874 words_

 _Written for_

 _ **Writing Club - CYB: P4**_

 _ **Garage Sale - 6. Book**_


	6. sisters (forever best friends)

"Pet, will you have a spot of tea?" Lily addressed her sister, grinning.

"Of course!" Petunia affirmed. "It smells _amazing."_

Lily fought hard against the giggles threatening to burst. She poured some of the warm water from the small teapot into Petunia's cup, and then she poured some into her own.

"So, how are you on this delightful day?" Lily asked in a posh tone of voice.

"I'm just spiffy, thank you," replied her sister, who also seemed to be pushing back her giggles. "And you?"

"I'm simply _marvelous,_ but it is rather stuffy outside." Lily fanned herself with her hand.

Petunia couldn't hold back her amusement any longer and burst into laughter. Lily joined in a mere second later, her hand covering her mouth as she let out giggle after giggle.

"I love tea parties," she gasped.

* * *

Everything was going perfectly - until she dropped the teapot and it shattered.

" _Mumma!"_ Petunia went flying to her mother, crying. "Lily broke the teapot!"

"It was an accident!" Lily protested, having followed her distraught sister. "I didn't mean to - the handle was slippery and it fell!"

"Now, Lily," her mother reprimanded, "that's no excuse to not be careful with it, is it now? Did you hold it with two hands?"

Lily looked shamefully at the ground. "No, Mumma," she whispered. "I didn't."

"Thank you for being honest," her mother said approvingly. "Now let me go clean it up."

She swept away, leaving the two sisters to stand there in awkward silence.

"I'm sorry, 'Tunia," Lily said apologetically. "I really didn't mean to break your favorite teapot. I hope you'll be okay."

Petunia took a deep breath. "It's okay," she said, smiling at her sister. "I'll always forgive you."

Lily beamed, her mood significantly improved. "Really?"

"Of course," she promised. "Now, why don't we go play with your dollhouse?"

* * *

 _306 words_

 _Written for Garage Sale - 4. Teapot_


	7. fun & pranks

The twins' phase of experimentation of joke items ushered in a period of _chaos_ in the Burrow. Molly Weasley could be often seen with a soup ladle in her hand and chasing after them, a frustrated look on her face as the twins cackled.

During these times, most of the occupants prefer to stay in their rooms, giving Molly and the twins a clear path to continue their high-stakes chase.

The first product are the Ever-Bouncing Balls, which cause a mess in the kitchen while Molly is cooking and the rest of the Weasleys are eating breakfast peacefully. The balls ricochet off the walls and the floors, sometimes using the Weasleys' limbs as a platform. One lands in the porridge that Percy's eating and he chokes.

Needless to say, Molly is not pleased and the twins are banned from playing Quidditch ever again, which is dismaying, but doesn't deter them.

The next are the Snot Balls, which aren't made with real snot, but still look disgusting. The Weasleys find them stashed everywhere. Ginny finds one in the shower and screams.

This time, it's not just Molly out for blood.

And then, the Canary Creams. Every Weasley is subjected to the prank, as it is so easy. All they had to do is leave a platter of them sitting out, and everyone takes one, except for Molly, who looks suspicious (and rightfully so).

When Fred and George come downstairs, there are a flock of canaries on the couch, all discombobulated, and one very, very angry Molly Weasley.

And finally, the Nose-Biting Teacup, fashioned to look like innocent, harmless teacups but really, it's designed to bite noses when one tries to sip from it.

Even Molly falls for this ingenious prank. The twins, under cover of darkness, quietly replace all of the regular teacups with the trick ones, which look exactly identical.

The next morning, there's a loud shriek and about a minute later, Molly comes running up, her hair wild and eyes blazing, a light-colored bite mark on her nose.

" _That's it!"_ she screams. " _Go and buy your bloody joke shop!"_

The twins grin and high-five.

* * *

 **Garage Sale - 9. Ball**

 **Build a Monster - Legs: The Burrow**

 **Snape Appreciation - Shelf 2 -** **Hiccoughing Potion – write about something annoying**

 **355 words**


	8. for the better

He strolls down the street, a hood over his face. He can't be seen - he has the most recognizable face in Gryffindor and if the commoners see him, the palace will know about it.

He sees beggars on the street, asking for spare coins. He sees merchants with a sheen of sweat on their faces, desperately calling out items and their prices.

 _Are these the conditions our people live in?_ he wonders. _Have we really neglected them that much?_

These merchants and beggars and whatnot have to make a living on their own - not everyone is as privileged as he is. In fact, from the looks of it, he may the _only_ privileged person in the entire kingdom.

 _Well, I'll be..._

* * *

"Mother, they're suffering!" James argues, his hands slamming down on the table. "And we're just _sitting here —"_

"James, calm down —"

"I think he has a point, Euphemia," his father's smooth voice cut in. "We've been so concerned with raising James — which is not a bad thing, of course — but we haven't really paid attention to our people."

James's heart rate increases - were they going to—?

"Lance," Fleamont calls to his most trusted advisor, "please organize a feast for three days from now. But not just for us — for our people. And get me the finance report as well — God knows we have to turn this economy around."

"Of course, Your Majesty, and I'll get the word out as well." Lance bows and hurries from the room.

"Well, James, are you satisfied?" Fleamont turns back to his son, smiling upon seeing the ecstatic look on his face.

James could barely keep from bouncing up and down in his chair. "Of course," he replies, fighting back a broad smile.

"This still doesn't excuse your 'excursion'," Euphemia adds, "but we'll let it slide just this once, since something good came out of it."

"Thank you, Mother," he says respectfully.

"Now, run along," his father says, amusement coloring his voice. "I know you're _itching_ to tell Sirius about this."

He, in fact, is _bursting,_ but he doesn't want to admit it. "Thanks, Mother, Father," he says, dipping his head. He pushes back his chair, stands up, and walks composedly out of the hall.

And then, he breaks into a full-on sprint.

 _Sirius'll never believe his ears..._

* * *

 _Assignment 2, Geography Task 5 - Write a royalty!au_

 _Garage Sale - 12. Chair_

 _389 words_


	9. the price of forgiveness

" _Honestly_ ," Lily huffs, laying a hand on her pregnant belly, "I don't know why I entrusted you with choosing the crib."

Sirius looks miffed. "Hey, what's wrong with my choice?" he says indignantly. "It's a perfectly good and crib. _And_ it was cheap."

Lily snorts. "We gave you _plenty_ of money. And you went and spent most of it on dirty magazines. How irresponsible are you?"

Sirius looks guiltily at the floor. "I'm sorry, Lils," he mumbles shamefully.

Lily heaves in a breath. "Okay, I _suppose_ you can be forgiven," a devilish smile spreads on her face, " _if_ you do all of the chores for a month."

Sirius pulls a face. "I'm not _ten!"_ he whines.

"Yet you have the maturity of a boy that age," Lily points out. "Plus, we're letting you live in this house but you're not pulling your weight."

Sirius groans. "Fine," he sighs resignedly.

* * *

James takes great pleasure in not having to do his chores for a month and instead strives to make Sirius's job more difficult.

"You missed a spot," he says, idly tossing some cereal onto the clean floor behind Sirius, who is sweeping.

Sirius scowls but sweeps it neatly into the dustpan. James keeps repeating his actions and Sirius keeps sweeping the cereal bits up.

Needless to say, it takes more time than it should have to sweep the kitchen.

* * *

This continues for a month. He has to work day and night, hardly getting any rest. By the time his punishment is over, however, the house is spotless.

"My punishment is over," he informs Lily the next day.

"Congratulations," she says dryly. "Would you like a certificate or something?"

"A certificate of forgiveness would be nice," he says.

"Fine!" She throws her hands into the air. "You're forgiven. Oh, and by the way," she smirks, "I threw away all your dirty magazines."

* * *

 _310 words_

 _Garage Sale - 14. Crib_


	10. ashes resurrected

Once upon a time, Ginny had a doll. It was a beautiful thing, with long, soft yellow hair and a pretty dress.

That doll was like her teddy bear. She would treat it as if it were her child, combing its hair, making clothes out of scraps of leftover fabric from her mother's sewing projects.

It was her _baby._

But its life ended too soon.

* * *

Six-year-old Ginny was playing tea party with her brother, Ron, when he had his first case of accidental magic. It was an explosion that sent everything and everyone reeling, and destroyed almost everything that was in its vicinity.

Unfortunately, Ginny's doll was caught in the crossfire and it crumbled into ashes, into a pile of _nothingness._

She almost hit her brother for that, had her eyes not been blurred by tears. She was shaking with anger - her precious doll, _gone._ The one token of her childhood in ashes.

Her last hope was in her parents' hands - maybe they could fix it with magic - but the sad expressions on their faces told her everything she needed to know - and the tears started spilling out.

" _This is all your fault, Ron!"_ she'd screamed, and her brother had looked utterly horrified.

* * *

 _Four years later_

 _From: Ron_

 _To: Ginny_

She unwrapped the gift and to her astonishment, it was her doll - the doll he'd destroyed almost four years ago.

 _Ginny, I'm sorry,_ the card read in almost illegible handwriting. _Here's an almost exact copy of your doll - I think her eyes might be bigger and she might be a little squished from traveling with the owl, but I hope you like it._

Ginny cried that day. That night, she slept with the doll tucked in her arms. The next morning, she pulled out the old dresses and dressed her in them.

 _Perfect._

* * *

 _303 words_

 _Garage Sale - 3. Doll_


	11. what're friends for?

"Do you think I should wear a hat?" James digs through his drawer before pulling out something resembling a lumpy beanie. "Or perhaps a scarf."

"In my opinion, you're way overthinking this," Remus says reasonably. "Lily's not going to judge you for the way you dress - unless it's something completely ridiculous. She's going to judge you on how you act during this date, and she's going to evaluate whether or not it was the right decision to go on a date with you. And if you leave a good impression on her, she might consider agreeing to another one."

"That's some solid advice, Moony." James pauses, impressed. "Are you sure you don't read _Witch Weekly?"_

Remus bites back a snippy retort. "I simply have a good read on women, especially Lily," he replies.

James gives him a knowing look. "Whatever you say, mate."

This time, Remus throws his book at James. It doesn't hit him, but the sentiment behind it is conveyed perfectly.

* * *

"She said yes!" James barrels into the dormitory, his face alight with glee. "She said yes!"

Remus, being the perceptive person that he is, deduces that Lily must've said yes to another date. But Sirius, being the lazy dolt that he is, asks, "Who said yes?"

"Lily, of course!" James bounces up and down. "She agreed to go out on another date with me! I think she fancies me!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Remus mutters, rolling his eyes. Lily had told him several weeks ago that she fancied James, and had been dropping hints all year, and it had taken James _all this time_ to notice. He really was an oblivious dork.

Both his friends look at him oddly. "Who's Sherlock?" they ask in unison.

"Just an expression," he says lightly, not wanting to delve into the whole concept. It's a Muggle thing, meaning it would take them _ages_ to understand.

"I'm happy for you, James," he says genuinely.

"Thanks!" And typical James starts freaking out immediately. "What should I wear?"

Remus laughs.

* * *

 _335 words_

 _Garage Sale - 8. Hat_


	12. the hero in me (you made me this way)

When he was little, Ron wanted to be a superhero, as evidenced by the Muggle comics stacked by his bed. He knew that wasn't possible, but a little boy could dream, right?

And magic was his opening.

* * *

When he met Harry Potter, his life undeniably took a turn for the better. He knew he could beat this boy - he was famous at all, but he had been raised for eleven years without knowing about his magical abilities, so he ought to be far behind Ron, who had grown up with a wizarding family. He would excel, he knew it.

Did he? Nope. He fell in Harry's shadow. _Harry_ was the hero in everyone's eyes, and no one spared a second glance at Ron. He was just another Weasley, no one special.

And oh, it hurt him more than he let on.

* * *

He met a girl, Hermione. She was averagely pretty - but he was desperate for some attention, so he grabbed her attention everywhere he could. Failing his homework, studying for tests, or just sitting by the fire and teasing her, it all was good.

But then _Harry_ swooped in and stole the limelight from Ron and Hermione liked _him_ more than Ron.

Ron was really getting tired of Harry Potter.

* * *

When he was fourteen and Harry got chosen for the Triwizard Tournament, that was the final straw. Ron just _blew up -_ it was a chance to vent his frustrations and _finally_ giving Harry a piece of his mind.

But he was Ron, and he was Harry, and they could never stay mad at each other for too long.

* * *

At eighteen, he finally became a hero.

Searching for Horcruxes, winning over the girl of his dreams, _Voldemort finally dying -_ he couldn't help but think his friendship with Harry was worth it after all.

Harry was the one who had made him a hero, right?

* * *

 _313 words_

 _Garage Sale - 10. Comic_


	13. is my love really unfathomable?

Harry flipped the coin in his hand, dubiousness painted on his face. "Are you sure these'll work?"

"I'm certain," Hermione assured him. "These will let the DA know when there's a meeting."

"But what if Umbridge finds it?"

"It'll appear as a normal Galleon," she said confidently. "The numbers engraved on the top where the year is supposed to go will change accordingly and she'll never see the difference."

Harry looked at the coin. And then back at her, a broad grin blooming on his face. "You're brilliant, Hermione," he said truthfully, reveling in the way her cheeks flushed pink at his praise.

"Oh it's nothing," she replied dismissively, waving her hand for emphasis. "It took me ages to find the charm, but there's nothing the library can't solve."

"Doesn't matter," he said, his heart bursting. And then, he added, "Ron's one lucky bloke."

Hermione choked, the pink darkening to red on her face. "W-What?"

"You do know he loves you, right?" he said idly, secretly feeling a surge of pleasure. "He's been head over heels in love with you since you met."

"That's-that's impossible," she spluttered. "We barely knew each other and he always made fun of me!"

"Don't you know boys, Hermione?" Harry stopped fiddling with the coin and gazed straight into her eyes. "It was Ron's immature way of conveying that he liked you - and his anger at you being Krum's date to the Yule Ball - that was jealousy. He needs to improve his methods, if you ask me."

Hermione was struck speechless. Could-could it be true? Her mind said _no,_ but her heart said _yes._ Harry wouldn't ever lie to her - would he?

"Well," she said faintly, "I _suppose_ it could be true, but I don't think that's enough evidence. Goodnight."

And before Harry could protest, she was hurrying off to the girls' dorms.

"You can come out now," he said to an empty patch of air behind him.

And Ron emerged from under the Invisibility Cloak, pink-faced and slightly disappointed.

"At least she's _open_ to the possibility of you loving her," Harry said before Ron could say anything. "It planted some doubt in her mind. I hope she comes around."

"Me too."

* * *

 _367 words_

 _Garage Sale - 11. Coin_


	14. loving you is heartbreak

He loves her. He's not supposed to.

* * *

"Bloody hell, McKinnon," Sirius mutters waspishly. "Why must you torment me so?"

Of course, he's not speaking _to_ the girl in question, but rather burning holes in the back of her head as she cuddles up to her boyfriend, wrapped in a red Gryffindor blanket, gazing up at him with puppy eyes.

He wishes he was that bloke, but the universe is set on keeping them apart.

He watches as her boyfriend drops kiss upon kiss on her pink lips and his heart aches and moans and pines. He wants to be the one holding her close, gazing into her eyes with adoration. He wants to be the one kissing her until she's positively bursting.

He wants to be with _her._

* * *

She feeds him porridge at breakfast. She giggles when he takes some on his finger and dabs it on her nose and ripened cheeks.

Sirius furtively watches them, peering over the top of his newspaper. His hands clench around the paper, wrinkling it as he tries to calm his boiling temper.

"Sirius, stop, you're wrinkling my paper," Remus says, exasperated, and Sirius is brought back down to planet Earth, pulled away from his jealous spying.

"Sorry," he mutters, folding the paper haphazardly and handing it back to his friend.

Now he has no cover, so he can't watch them anymore, but her tinkling laugh reaches his ears and he grips his spoon tighter, his knuckles turning white.

He doesn't know how much more he can take.

* * *

He loved her. But she went off and married her boyfriend, unknowingly breaking his heart, shattering it beyond repair.

* * *

It's storming when the newspaper arrives, and it's headlined in big bold letters, and upon seeing it, his knees give out.

Sirius curls up in a ball on his doorstep, not caring that it's raining or that he's soaked to the bone.

Marlene McKinnon is _dead._ Gone. Her sparkling sky blue eyes — _oh, he could've drowned in them —_ her tinkling laugh — _he could listen to it for hours_ — and every single of her is just _gone._

A part of him is gone with her.

* * *

 _Assignment 3, Gardening Task 6 - Write about secret love._

 _Sewing 101 - Fabric: Blanket, Pattern: Gone, Color: Sky Blue_

 _Writing Club - Film Festival - 18._ _Plot point: Unexpected news_

 _WC: 361_


	15. let's build this dream together

"I can't believe you're getting _married_ tomorrow," Sirius says, idly sipping from his beer. "It seems like just yesterday we were picking up birds at the bar."

"Yeah…" James's eyes are wistful, reminiscing. "Remember that one girl who you tried to seduce and her husband came and beat you senseless?"

Sirius scowls as his three mates chuckle. "I meant _good_ memories."

"That was a good memory," James points out. "Not for you, but for us it was pretty hilarious."

Sirius's scowl deepens. "Some friends you are," he mutters.

"Hey, I made you my best man, didn't I?" James thumps him on the back affectionately. "Is that a sign of true friendship?"

Sirius lightens up just a bit. "I s'pose," he admits. "But still — that was the most humiliating day of my life, so I don't need to be reminded of it."

"Even more humiliating than the time Snape hung you by your underwear on the chandelier?" Peter recalls and the group bursts into laughter again, bar Sirius, who looks scandalized.

"I thought this James's stag night, not 'attack Sirius' night," he complains.

* * *

"Lily, are you ready for this?" Marlene adjusts her train and steps back to admire her best friend, who is clad in a beautiful wedding dress.

Lily takes a deep breath. She's shaky, a bundle of nerves, but one word slips out of her mouth, confident, "Yes."

And then she starts to well up, which ultimately causes Marlene to cry too, and the two girls collapse in each other's arms.

"I'm — so — proud — of you," Marlene gasps between sobs. "I — love — you — "

"I love you too, Marls," Lily whispers.

* * *

Lily glides down the aisle, radiant and beaming, and James swears his heart stops at the sight of her. She's a million things — an angel, a goddess — but there's not one that quite sums her up.

His eyes are trained on her, only on her — and then Sirius nudges him sharply and he blinks.

Lily is standing in front of him, practically glowing, as the priest starts the official ceremony.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…" James lets his voice fade out as he tries to get himself under control — he's getting married to the woman he loves in front of an audience, and he can't be a mess when it's time to say his vows.

Holy crap — _he's getting married to Lily Evans._

"...vows." Everyone's looking at him and he snaps to attention.

"Lily," he begins, looking straight into her eyes — they're calm, reassuring — and he plows on.

"If I said it was love at first sight, that would be a lie."

This earns him a laugh and James smiles a little more, his confidence bolstered. This is easy, he just eases into the vows, the words that he and his mates had rehearsed last just flow out of his mouth like liquid. He watches Lily light up more and more, her emerald-green eyes illuminate, and then it's over.

Her face becomes impossibly brighter as she recites her vows and he lets the words wash over, lets it feed his heart, allows it to swell in his chest.

And when it's over, his heart is the size of the solar system.

"Do you take the Lily Evans to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

James nods, his eyes fixed firmly on Lily's. "I do."

"And do you, Lily Evans, take James Potter to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Then, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss — "

But James is already reaching for her, he's waited far too long to do this, and he dips his _wife_ and kisses her, and fireworks explode behind his eyelids, and the crowd is roaring and…

...Lily pulls away, red-faced but smiling. She and James right themselves but James doesn't let go of her, because she fits so snugly into his side.

"I love you," he tells her.

"I love you too," she says, her cheeks pink.

* * *

 _Assignment 3 - Gardening Task #3: Calla Lily - Write about a wedding_

 _Amber's Attic - 4. "I swear that when our lips touch, I can taste the next sixty years of my life."_

 _Feline Fair - 9. Korat - (color) emerald green_

 _680 words_


	16. love blooms

She meets him when she's — what else? — getting flowers for a friend's dead second cousin twice-removed. Said friend is rather cut up about it, so Lily, feeling sympathetic, drops by the local flower shop two blocks away to purchase some chrysanthemums.

A little bell jingles overhead as she pushes the door open and her nostrils are immediately bombarded with the fragrances of a hundred types of flowers. She doesn't expect any less.

There's a rather handsome bloke at the counter, but Lily doesn't think much of him. It's not she's going to see him again or anything.

He looks up and smiles charmingly as she walks towards him, her eyes darting all over the cozy little shop. He has a name tag stuck to his apron which read _Hi, my name is_ (and scrawled in messy handwriting) _Sirius._

"Hullo," she says genially, just because she's in a good mood today (Mary tells her she's a demon deceivingly dressed as an angel).

"Hullo," he replies, friendly. "What can I help you with?"

"Well I have a friend whose —" Lily wracks her brain for the entire relation "— whose second cousin twice-removed just died, and her favorite flowers were chrysanthemums, and I was wondering if you had some —"

"Chrysanthemums?" He brightens up immediately. "We just got a shipment of them from Asia!"

"Really?" Lily raises a dubious eyebrow.

"Do I really look I'm lying?" He spreads his arms out.

Lily chuckles. "Do you usually keep customers waiting?" she inquires not unkindly, a teasing lilt in her voice.

He jumps. "Sh-oot, you're right." He turns around and calls, "Hey James, get me some of those chrysanthemums, will you?"

Another voice calls back, "Get them yourself, you lazy tosser."

"There's a pretty bird out here," Sirius shoots back.

There's a beat of silence, followed by footsteps.

Lily rolls her eyes. "Excuse me," she begins hotly, but her tirade dies in her throat as the other man walks out.

This bloke looks like he'd been sculpted by Aphrodite herself. He has messy jet black hair, sparkling hazel eyes that she could drown in, perfectly shaped lips and jaw, and a tall, slender build.

He's no Prince Charming, but he's pretty damn close.

Lily swallows. She's shite at flirting with men (Mary tells her she flirts like a breathless schoolgirl — the girl gives more opinions than advice) and has never gotten beyond a first date with any man.

"Hi," she breathes as she locks eyes with the magnificent specimen, and she knows he's captivated by her from the way his breath audibly hitches in his throat.

"Hi," he murmurs.

Sirius sidles out of Lily's vision, a knowing grin on his face. "I'll just go get those flowers."

Nobody acknowledges him and he disappears into the back room. Lily draws closer to James, breaking her trance and staring at her feet.

"I'm Lily," she offers, looking up after a few moments of awkward silence and hearts pounding. A blush rises to her cheeks.

"James," he replies, propping his head on his hand, his elbow resting on the counter.

(Good lord, his _forearms._ )

"I heard." God, she's awful.

James finally seems to recognize the awkwardness. "I suppose you did."

Sirius just had to be reveling in her mortification. He's probably dawdling for as long as humanly possible in the back room.

"Sorry about my best mate," James speaks up. "He's a bit of a prick sometimes. It's an inherent trait."

"Really? I couldn't tell," she quipped sarcastically, smiling. And an earth-shattering smile graces his face.

"Hey, I think I like you," he says, his eyes flitting up to meet hers.

"...I think I like you too." And somehow, she knows they're not just referring to friendship.

"So…" James's hand crawls across the table, where hers is resting. "If I like you, and you like me, does that mean I can have your number?"

Lily's not one to get flustered around boys, but this boy had maybe, possibly something intriguing about him, something Lily is interested in learning more about, perhaps starting something more along the line.

So, she gives him a megawatt smile and agrees.

* * *

 _696 words_

 _Pinata - Hard; Potter_

 _FBAWTFT - Unicorn/Bangladesh_

 _Around the Board -_ _3\. 12 Grimmauld Place: Write about a member of the Black family._

 _Marauder Map Madness - 96. James Potter/97. Flower Shop!AU_

 _Character App: 3. James Potter_

 _Lizzy's Loft - 10. Trait: Redhead_


	17. tilted worlds

"Having another portrait painted, Godric?" Salazar enters the room where Godric is flamboyantly posing, kneeling with his sword pointed to the ground. "At this point, I think we have more portraits of you than walls in this castle."

Godric, who is frozen stiff, doesn't answer.

"You do realize this is a place of learning, not a shrine to you?" Salazar continues contemptuously.

"Hold," Godric orders the painter and stands. "You don't understand, Salazar, if you have a face sculpted by the gods — something, I imagine by looking at your face, you are unfamiliar with — then it needs to be preserved. What better than paintings?"

Salazar rolls his eyes. "Oh please," he sighs. "You become more and more vain with each passing day. No wonder you don't have a lover." He grins smugly as Godric strides towards him angrily, and then halts as he seems to think better of it.

"What's your problem?" he snaps tartly. "All I ever did was love you. That's it. And you couldn't even give that back to me. You're so bitter and dispiriting. You've been nothing but pessimistic. What's it to you?"

"Relax, I was only being sardonic." Salazar backs up with his hands up. "No need to be so tetchy."

Godric sighs, his aggressive posture relaxing a little. "I know," he says despondently. "I'm sorry."

"Forgiven," Salazar acknowledges. "We're all on edge here. With that army of monsters threatening our boundaries —"

"—we're all a little short-tempered," Godric concludes. "I don't recall the last night I received a full night of rest."

"Me either," Salazar agrees.

The two men stand in silence until Salzar offers, "If you want to be alone to finish your portrait —"

"Nonsense," Godric dismisses. "Stay. Might as well have your hideous face preserved as well."

"Excuse me!" Salazar shouts indignantly, lunging towards his almost-brother. "My face is not _hideous._ You lie!"

The two of them chase each other around almost childishly, Salazar spewing insults, Godric laughing, and the poor painter looks bemused.

They did get around to finishing that portrait, and Salazar stands over Godric, a serious look on his face, and when one saw it, they would think it was a portrait painted to commemorate two Founders.

But little did they know, just their faces weren't preserved, but their friendship.

* * *

 **384 words**

 **Written for:**

 **Marauder Map Madness: 23/65**

 **Writing Club: Disney - C4; Book Club -** **Seven: (House) Slytherin, (action) eye rolling, (dialogue) "All I ever did was love you. That's it. And you couldn't even give that back to me."**

 **FBAWTFT - Nargle/Kenya**

 **Princess Lessons -** **Vanellope - Sarcastic**


	18. fragmented halos

_1994_

* * *

He couldn't get her out of his mind.

How elegant she had looked, daintily descending the stairs with a demure smile on her face. Her periwinkle skirt swishing around her legs. Her brown hair curled in ringlets. Ron was spellbound, captivated, feeling as though an angel from the heavens had graced him with her presence. In that moment, he forgot their quarrel. It was just her, and that golden halo she wore. He was in love.

But she bypassed him for someone else, her Prince Charming. Not her bumbling jester, who wished he was the one with her on his arm, but a prince who swept her off her feet. And to think she had despised him just a short time ago.

In the moment, Ron hated Viktor Krum. He wanted to grab him by his stupid lapels and shake him so hard he would babble nonsense for the rest of his life. He wanted to press his wand to his throat and threaten him within an inch of his life.

But Ron knew in his heart, he could never do that to Hermione. She was happy, and that was what mattered in the end. No matter how much they fought, he would always find in his heart to forgive and let go. That's what he was doing now.

"I love you," he whispered, a lump forming in his throat.

* * *

He dreamed of her that night, and the many nights after that. He dreamed that she was in _his_ arms, looking at him the way she looked at Krum, admiration shimmering in her eyes and a laugh bubbling at her lips. Her fingers would skate across his arms, sending little tremors up his bicep, and he would pull her closer and stare into her eyes. Her lips would be closing in on his...

...and he would wake up to the cold, hard reality that she wasn't his, and he would never know what her lips tasted like.

But he could keep the memory of her in that periwinkle dress, walking down the staircase with almost angelic glow emitting from her smile.

* * *

 _1998_

She tasted like chocolate and ashes, but under her halo, he couldn't find it in himself to care.

* * *

 _371 words_

 _Written for Auction: (color) periwinkle_


End file.
